I had the March edition of this column all planned out. Since I am in New Zealand until the end of March, I would give readers a unique inside view of the burgeoning “Down Under” track season. I would cover races in New Zealand and Australia that were to feature Galen Rupp, David Rudisha, Nick Symmonds, Alan Webb, Nick Willis and improving young Americans like Brandon Bethke and Will Leer, and Michigan-based Brit Lee Emanuel. Alberto Salazar had booked a Kenyan pace-maker to help Rupp run a fast 10,000m in Christchurch.

As New Zealand's main stadium announcer, I could give a privileged account of all this, as well as the first Olympic medal presentation on New Zealand soil, the ceremony for Willis' upgraded Beijing silver. World record-breaker and Olympic gold medallist John Walker (now “Sir John”) was due to make the presentation, while I did the fruity voice.

I even had the prospect of some good-humored personal color. My old Kiwi mate, coach Brian Taylor, a lovable but pugnacious Lydiard disciple, was warming up for the coaching seminar in Christchurch. Fervently argumentative, Taylor was bracing to take on Salazar and Ron Warhurst, a pair of feisty combatants who struck me as unlikely to roll over and surrender.

And because this column aims at interpreting our sport at a higher level, I also planned to speculate about the connection between the continuing growth of the Down Under summer season and the continuing decline of indoor track in America and cross country in Europe as venues for distance racing. It was all going to be fun to watch, and challenging to think about and write about, which is how I like it.

At 12:51 p.m., as I was about to go to watch Willis and friends run a session at the Wellington track, Christchurch was hit by a 6.3 earthquake. It struck suddenly up through the surface of the earth like a demonic fist, right under the city's central business district. Some buildings collapsed into rubble, including the one where Brian Taylor was head of an international school. He and many overseas students were killed instantly. At least 180 people died. Nine floors of concrete in free fall are beyond even Brian's robust runner's resilience.

So instead of a vibrant highlight for track and field in New Zealand, we were left with a dark aftermath. Like the rest of New Zealand (and now, even more horrifically, Japan) we had to find ways to carry on. We needed to figure how to fulfill our sport's function of affirming physical life at its best, without demeaning those who had died, or distracting the survivors. In Wellington, still unaware of the scale of the disaster, not knowing that the track where Filbert Bayi ran his world record 3:32.2 in 1974 was wrecked, not knowing that my oldest kiwi running friend was dead, we discussed the first news from Christchurch. Nick immediately said, “We could put on some races here, and raise money for Christchurch.” I reminded him of the Olympic medal ceremony, and we agreed that would be an additional draw for spectators, if the NZ Olympic Association agreed.

To simplify a lot of hard work, that is what happened. On Saturday, Feb. 26, four days after the quake, I walked to the microphone inside the track at Newtown Park in Wellington to address 6,000 silent spectators. It was going to be a momentous occasion for them, probably one they will remember for the rest of their lives. The words I used had to be right – they had to highlight the significance of the moment, and lift the communal spirit, while fully acknowledging the tragedy. This is the script I delivered:

In a week that has inflicted one of the worst tragedies in New Zealand's history, welcome to an event that is one of the best and most positive in New Zealand's history – positive especially for New Zealand athletics, and the New Zealand Olympic movement.

The tragedy in Christchurch, among many terrible losses, caused the cancellation of the planned International Track Meet. That meeting would have been in progress at Queen Elizabeth 2 Stadium at this very moment.

The programme at QE2 was to have included the first ever official presentation of an Olympic medal on New Zealand soil.

Instead, that presentation will take place now, here at Newtown Park. It's wonderful that so many have attended – thank you.

This presentation is one way for Wellington and its athletics community to pay our respects to Christchurch and its athletics community, which we know has lost at least one senior and much loved member.

The presentation and the “TrackMeet4 Christchurch” that follows have also been conceived as a fundraiser for the suffering people of Christchurch, opportunity for us all to show our support. I'm happy to announce that thanks to the advocacy of one of our visiting American athletes, a donation of $5,000 has already been made by Nike Running USA.

I then introduced Barry Maister of the IOC.

The medal presentation will now take place [ceremonial music begins] for the men's 1500 meters, track and field athletics, at the Games of the 29th Olympiad, held in August 2008, at Beijing, China.
Willis was led to the podium by 7-year-old Quinn Mottley, who was in Christchurch during the earthquake, and who was to have carried the medal at the ITM presentation. Carrying the flowers was Ashley Abbott of the NZOC. The presentation will be made by Maister, and Jim Blair, President of Athletics New Zealand.

I then called off a revised victory ceremony for the Men's 1500 meters as follows:

And winner of the silver medal, representing New Zealand, was Nick Willis.

Medal and flowers were presented. The national anthem of New Zealand was played.

I asked everyone to please remain standing to observe one minute of silence in honor of the people of Christchurch, and those they had lost.

Following the silence, Willis was interviewed for the crowd by women’s running pioneer Katherine Switzer.

I offer readers a glimpse of this event because the occasion seemed to show how positively our sport can contribute to a community. That night we managed together to express feelings that had seemed to lie too deep for words. The collective emotions – patriotic jubilation during the medal presentation, respectful grief during the silence, and sports-fan fervor during the races that followed – had an intensity I have rarely witnessed.

The climax was a brilliant elite mile. It was a perfect race to commentate on over the public address – fast, tactical, close, exciting. Willis surged just clear of two young Americans – Willis 3:58.4, Will Leer 3:58.8, Brendon Bethke 4:00.0. Alan Webb, the American record-holder, did much of the pace-making, and Lee Emanuel, a two-time NCAA champion at New Mexico, was challenging for the lead when he fell with 200m to go. The whole ground cried “Ooooh!” in sympathy. The crowd of 6,000 moved out of the stand to cluster around the very edge of the track. They cheered all the way, and long after. They cheered Willis every time he waved to them, they cheered Emanuel as he walked disconsolate across the track, they cheered Webb because he was a great athlete who this night had done the work to help his friends, and they cheered Leer because they loved his big mustache and ebullient spirit. Some waited in line an hour for Willis's autograph. All went home happy.

Roger Robinson has done many things in a lifetime in running, including racing for England and New Zealand, setting masters records at Boston and New York, being stadium announcer at two Commonwealth Games and serving on a national governing body (“but that was like Alcatraz,” he says). Most of his jobs involve finding words to describe or analyze running; he’s a TV and radio commentator, author of three successful books and senior writer for Running Times, for which he has won two U.S. journalism awards. “Roger on Running” appears monthly on runningtimes.com.